


'Twas the Hangover Before Christmas

by mugglerock



Series: Destiel Advent Calendar 2019 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Borderline crack, Christmas, Christmas in the Bunker, Christmas poem, F/M, Fluff, Humor, It's the Only Reason for the Rating, Like The Floofiest Floof, M/M, Naughty language, Silly, The Title is a Little Misleading, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, happy holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock
Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the bunker...
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Destiel Advent Calendar 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558915
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86
Collections: Favorites





	'Twas the Hangover Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> What? I don’t ALWAYS write devastating angst. Only like… 97.6 percent of the time.
> 
>  **UPDATE:**  
>  P.S. The amazing, wondrous, beautiful, fantastic [anyrei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei) made some fucking gorgeous art for the poem. Give her some friggin' love!!

#  _‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the bunker,  
_

_Came the sounds of a man, who could not have been drunker;_

_The socks and shared laundry were strewn all about,_

_The place was a mess, of that there was no doubt;_

_Caused by the hunter, who was presently,_

_Moaning, and groaning, and wailing off-key;_

_You see, while children were nestled all snug in their beds,_

_Dean Winchester had spent the night with coeds;_

_In his twenties no longer was this man of Forty,_

_He was too old to be partying like Shannen Doherty;_

_As he finally managed to get to his feet,_

_His head started throbbing to the sound of the beat,_

_Coming from the library, an intolerable peal;_

_And all Dean could think was, “Jesus, take the wheel.”_

_As he charged toward the inconsiderate dick,_

_Who thought it was funny to play songs of St. Nick;_

_When he stormed to the room, eyes glazed and irate,_

_He felt his righteous indignation quickly deflate;_

_For the image before him was one of pure glee,_

_And not that shitty musical show from TV;_

_No, it was his small, broken family gathered ‘round,_

_A lustrous and vibrant pine tree they had found;_

_Sam and Eileen were in a slow dance sway,_

_While Crooner Christmas tunes just played away;_

_Castiel, resident angel and Dean’s bestest friend,_

_Was decking the tree, his ladder about to upend;_

_In an instant Dean was there, arms stretched out,_

_Saving the clumsy angel from head injury no doubt;_

_A cute sounding, “oof,” slipped as he fell to his arms,_

_Dean refrained from a joke about “a fall for his charms;”_

_The smile he received, better than any possible gift,_

_Better than homemade, cash, or what one could shoplift;_

_Dean grasped his friend’s hand against his own chest,_

_His other arm quick as it slipped to now rest,_

_At Castiel’s lower back, the ideal spot for his next move,_

_As he spun, drew Cas close, a real slow dance groove;_

_It was met with a laugh, and Dean was entranced,_

_By the gaze of affection just for him as they danced;_

_It was breathtaking, a sight that would always be,_

_Ingrained and imprinted onto his memory;_

_In that moment, there was only one way to act,_

_Dean squeezed Cas’s hand, resolve somehow intact;_

_The distance between them fast became nonexistent,_

_And he was lost in a kiss, purely sweet and insistent._

_When Dean paused for air he reluctantly needed,_

_The angel quirked his brow before he proceeded,_

_To nod to the hall that led to his room,_

_Dean smirked and followed, not one to assume;_

_Hand in hand they were about to embark down the halls,_

_When his brother called out, instant cockblocked blue balls;_

_Dean had been down this road once before,_

_His brother was prone to prod, and to bore;_

_This wasn’t the time, Sam’s questions could wait,_

_The night before Christmas was no time to frustrate;_

_With a placating smile and a shake of his head,_

_Dean waved Sammy off and pointedly said,_

_“Cas needs my assistance with a, um… snakebite,_

_So, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”_

__


End file.
